Beyond the Distant Sky
by mikoto lee
Summary: UPDATED CH3 Some loves last for a lifetime. Some loves last for all eternity. This is a story of a couple who found each other at the edge of the world.
1. Lightning strikes twice

Beyond the Distant Sky Chatper 1 / Prologue: Lighting Strikes Twice  
  
It was late afternoon, and the wind was whopping wildly making trees dance like mad while the dark overcast clouds appear to rumble in silent anger. I know its not a good day to take a short stroll where anytime now I can expect a heavy downpour of a strong storm.  
  
But I didn't care. I just wanted to move, let my thoughts drift freely instead of bottling them all inside. These strolls were one of my few luxuries in life and I don't think I will give it up for a damn storm.  
  
As if on cue, lighting flashed from the heavens and hit the tree. I froze at the sight but after a few seconds my mind sank back to its miserable state and I resumed my walk without caring about any further interruptions. After all lightning never strikes the same place twice right?  
  
For some reason I came to stop by a familiar bridge. I rest my elbows on the bridge and look down at my sad face. I hate that face and everything that it represents. My face has not changed that much since my childhood days. I still had a shadow of that damn unibrow that no amount of plucking can completely eradicate. My ears still stuck out like Big Bob's. And I still wear that all too familiar scowl day in day out. Perhaps the only salvation I had was that I was not really plagued with that much acne unlike many of the teens around my age.  
  
I sigh as the first raindrops distort my image until it was completely lost in a haze of color. Without further warning, the clouds opened and huge pellets of rain came rushing from the sky eager to meet the dusty ground. In a few seconds, the rain has drenched me all the way to the pores of my pale skin. But for some odd reason I didn't' really take heed as I was lost in a jumble of thoughts.  
  
Tomorrow, I will graduate middle school. That in its way troubled me. It's not because I had academic problems. It came as a dull surprise when I found that I belonged to the top fifteen students of my batch and I will be receiving second honors. And somehow, I just got irritated when I found out I was going to get the Literary Award for 'outstanding' works.  
  
In my opinion, all those literary works were all crap. There is a saying that people pour their thoughts and emotions on a literary work. In doing so, they free themselves from the chains that trouble them. I wrote ever since I could begin to comprehend my emotions... I wrote and wrote... but I never felt free.  
  
Instead, I felt more trapped than ever.  
  
I wrote about many things. I wrote about my family that thinks I'm invisible or worst a mere shadow of my perfect big sister. I wrote about the pressures of trying to be accepted while trying to keep up with my tough girl façade. But most especially I wrote about Arnold.  
  
A tear rolls down my cheek but I didn't even feel it since the rain hammered so hard on my face. And for that I am grateful, that I couldn't feel the expression of my sadness.  
  
For fourteen years I nourished a flame for a certain person with undying devotion. Something about my devotion both thrilled and frightened me to no end. Ever since I gazed at his emerald eyes through my rain soaked eyelashes back in preschool, I felt my heart beat for the first time. And for some time Arnold kept my heart beating, hoping against all that one day his may beat in tune with mine. Every passing day, my heart weakened yet I still held on to some shred of hope for that day to come.  
  
But that day never came. And I'm beginning to realize that it might never will.  
  
I've been thinking a lot more lately than what can be considered as healthy. Something about the closure of my childhood as signaled by the end of middle school, made me wonder if there are other parts of my life that needed some finality. Perhaps it is wrong for me to say that it is only now that I have entertained such thoughts. Ever since the flame began, I have always wondered if playing with fire was the right thing for me to do.  
  
I understand exactly why I have never been able to let go completely. When it came to Arnold, I have always been torn. Torn between love and hate.  
  
I know a lot of people care about him and some really do love him. They love him for his unnerving optimism that could outshine even the darkest night. They love him for his unyielding devotion to a friend that is in need for help. They love him for his ability to blend in with any crowd without losing your individuality.  
  
But me...I love him for him.  
  
I love the Arnold for the "him" that surpasses any description but can only be understood by raw emotion. I love Arnold...without enough reason to do so other occasionally catching glimpses of his soul as I ran away from him.  
  
Yet I hate Arnold too.  
  
I hate him because of what I have become. In my devotion, I am a slave for this one-sided love. I hate him for the times that I let my mind wander and imagine what I could have been without him. I hate him because of what I am now.  
  
Has it been my choice all along? Have I subconsciously chosen to love and hate someone at the same time? Deep in my heart I could not blame Arnold for anything. I can only blame myself. And so there begins that vicious cycle of love, hate and self-loathing. I wish that cycle could end.  
  
My hate is now focused on the fact that Arnold and I have been drifting away further away from me as the years began to mature. And I am afraid that I might lose him soon.  
  
People I know are changing so fast that I can hardly keep up with them. Everyone seems to be in a rush to enter high school, the threshold of maturity. My mind cuts back to a scene from earlier in the day where we were practicing our pre-graduation rites. Everyone was busy chatting with someone or just plain jumpy.  
  
Rather than joining in the merriment, I watched from a distance as a barrage of people with happy smiles on their faces rushed back and forth. Familiar people that I have watched grow from little brats to hopeful young adults. I've seen all these people change, some for the better some for the worst. But I find it funny that no one knows how much I have been changing these years. Not even you...  
  
Of course there are a few people, who I kept close contact with. I've grown more subdued and reclusive through the years. I really don't speak unless spoken to. I don't bother confiding with anyone anymore and for some reason I feel that is partly to blame on why I have such a miserable state. But running away to be by yourself is better than being left alone and ignored. However I still had those moments where I erupt like a volcano and people run away from me.  
  
And those 'moments' appear to be happening a lot more lately.  
  
All of the people I know had this gleam in their eyes this morning. As if they were about to embark on some wonderful adventure. Logically, I understand why Arnold and the others must feel excited about tomorrow.  
  
Whenever I think about tomorrow, I can't really see myself in that day. I can't seem myself in high school. I can't see myself at the prom. I can't see myself entering a nice college and getting a degree. I can't see myself as a successful career woman with a great family. I can't see myself happy. I can't see beyond today and that has always troubled me.  
  
Tomorrow, I graduate and take one step closer to adulthood. But I'm neither happy nor excited. It comes with a fitting irony that this day is as dark, gloomy and wild as my emotions. Nonetheless a part of me wishes that I too can be happy... Deep down...I want things to be different. I want...  
  
CRACK!!!  
  
My whole body freezes at the sound and from the corner of my eye I see lightning strike a nearby tree and cut it in half. In a fraction of a second another sound pierced through the stormy afternoon.  
  
SCREECH!!!  
  
Every fiber in my body screams that I head for cover as fast as I can. My heart began to beat so fast pumping adrenalin to my veins and my knees began to tense ready to spring into action. Somehow my brain appears to be idle...And I disregarded all the immediate flee signals coming from my other senses except one.  
  
All of a sudden a harsh bright light that offered warm solace seemed to wash over me. And the only thing I can think of is going into the warm inviting light that seems to promise to take me away from everything else that can hurt me in this world.  
  
That was all I can think of before the light was snatched away from me and I was thrust into darkness.  
  
-------0000000------  
  
"Owww..." I groan and roll over to bury my face deep in the pillow. There was too much morning light streaming from the window that my head began to hurt rather than feel refreshed due to long sleep. After what seemed to be eternity, the dull ache in my head subsided and I steeled myself to open my eyes once again.  
  
My vision appeared to fluctuate for a moment, but then slowly it cleared and much to my surprise the light was not that harsh as it seemed. I push myself up in the bed to catch a glimpse of the outside world. It seemed like a perfect day. The sun was up and about, the air was not dry but refreshingly moist and the world seems to be at ease.  
  
It was perfect until I remembered what day it is.  
  
With a frown, I check the clock beside my bed and it said 9:30 AM. Damn, that doesn't give me enough time to lounge around and relax before the stupid graduation rites at 11 AM. Well at least, I will have enough time to go grab something to munch on and to freshen up before I set off for school.  
  
I look down and I realize that I was still wearing my day clothes and I didn't bother to change into anything else before I slept. Then my stomach grumbled and I feel oddly disconcerted on how hungry I feel.  
  
"Must have been last night..." I plodded barefoot across the room. The door to my room was left wide open and I wonder who the hell tried to invade my privacy this morning. But then my stomach grumbled again and I just walked through the open door.  
  
The house appears to be normal...that is it was quiet as if nobody lived there. Of course by this time Big Bob would probably have left for work. Even if he was a pathetic excuse for a father, the man certainly was prompt in trying to make his "cellular" empire a reality. Yep, cellular empire... Big Bob traded the beeper for a mobile phone in hopes of keeping up with the latest trend in telecommunications.  
  
Miriam, on the other hand, was stuck at home drowning herself in another one of those damn smoothies while watching endless soap operas that the TV networks show in order to mind control the numerous mindless masses.  
  
When I got down the stairs, I confirmed that the typical Miriam scenario was taking place. There she was slouched on the couch watching TV with a glass of smoothie she held lopsidedly. That was normal for Miriam, I took a slight pause when I realize that there were tears were streaming down her cheek. Nah...probably another one of those boring telenovelas they show all day all night on TV.  
  
"You better stop watching those soaps, Miriam." I scoffed as I headed for the kitchen. "It's bad for your health."  
  
When I got to the kitchen, as usual there was no food set on the table. I sighed and reached for the kitchen cabinet to get the cereal when the doorbell rang. I pause for a moment, wondering who on earth could be the visitor...and I shudder to think that it might be my big sister Olga. But then considering I couldn't hear any excited teetering form the outside, I doubt that it was hear.  
  
"It's probably the mailman." I grit my teeth when the doorbell rang again. "Miriam!" I yelled as loud as I can hoping that she can get out of her drunken stupor. "Aren't you going to get the door?"  
  
Still no response.  
  
"Why must I do everything around here?!" I stomped my way towards the living room before I heard a click and the door opened. I tensed myself reading ol Betsy for whoever might be entering uninvited.  
  
"Hello?" A familiar voice drifted through the house and I felt my heart stop.  
  
"Arnold?!" I hear myself shriek before I clamped my hand in my mouth. Stupid! Stupid! Why did I do something stupid as calling his name out!?  
  
Thankfully he didn't seem to hear me. I quickly hide myself from him while trying to see as much of him at the same time.  
  
"Hello?" Arnold entered our living room and a part of me wanted to yell at Miriam to get herself up and about.  
  
Again, no response from Miriam.  
  
I steeled myself mentally and stomped back to the living room. And there he was with his back to me, his blonde hair a little disheveled and on his hand was a small package wrapped in checkered tablecloth.  
  
"Good Morning Ma'am." Arnold laid the package in the table in front of Miriam. Man...she really must be out of it considering she hasn't even acknowledged Arnold's presence even if he was right in front of her. "Grandma asked me to bring you some of tea and cookies that she baked. We hope you are doing well."  
  
I furrowed my brow puzzled at what Arnold had said. Well? Since when was Miriam sick?  
  
An odd silence hung over the room as once again Miriam failed to respond. Arnold cleared his throat a little. "Well, I guess I better get going."  
  
Arnold whirled around and I blinked considering he was looking directly at me. "Umm...Hey Arnold." I mutter sounding a little confused.  
  
But he ignored me and I felt a strange pinch in my heart that was quickly replaced by white hot anger at being ignored straight at your face coupled with a strange sort of disorientation.  
  
Without even bothering to look at me again, he quickly strode to the door and opened it. I ran as fast as I could before the door could close on me. "Arnold!"  
  
But when I got out, I saw that Arnold broke into a frantic run, even ramming on some kids without bothering to help them up.  
  
My eyebrows shot up looking at the fallen kids. Now wait a second... That certainly isn't your normal Arnold behavior. Something must definitely be up.  
  
Without thinking, I ran after him hoping to find out what's wrong. As I followed him I feel a strange chill creep up to my spine, for no reason, as if I was approaching an impending doom. I shook the thought away and concentrated on running as fast as I can to keep up with Arnold.  
  
In what seemed like ages, Arnold finally slowed down to a walk and I was able to reach him. "What the hell is wrong with you today, football head?!" I panted in frustration after running something that felt like a mile.  
  
Arnold didn't say a single word but breathed in short gasps. I walked beside him and I was surprised to see tears streaming down his red puffed cheeks. He put his hand on his eyes and for a moment seemed as if he was going to scream in frustration. Instead he gave a small whimper and began to walk for ward.  
  
"Arnold?" Now I was really confused. This certainly is not turning out to be a normal day. What the hell is going on around here?! Here I am with so many questions and yet everyone seems to be ignoring me!  
  
For the second time that day, I felt an odd chill run down my spine and jolted me out of my thoughts. I take a look around me and I found out that Arnold has led me to the cemetery. Then some sort of strange vertigo hit me as fast as lightning and I feel like I was about to throw up on an empty stomach. For a short while, I stood motionless trying to catch my reeling senses.  
  
Then I gulped down the fear that was staring to form itself on my throat and followed Arnold into the cemetery. It was quiet but that was to be expected. The only thing I can hear was the rustling of the dried leaves that carpeted the ground. The silence was so uncomfortable that I thought the wind was directly whispering strange nothings into my ear.  
  
"Arnold?" I asked as I stared at his back while he sobbed in front of a fresh grave.  
  
I wanted to run. I wanted to get the hell away from there as fast as I can! Every single piece of logic told me that if I wanted to keep my sanity I better get away from that place. But I didn't follow, instead I walked forward to read the gravestone Arnold faced.  
  
Helga G. Pataki  
  
And I screamed in silence.  
  
-------0000000------  
  
A/N: So how was that folks? It's been a long time since I wrote a fanfiction for Hey Arnold. I had high hopes for my first fic but somehow I never got around to finish it. So here I am again with a new story that is loosely based on a book I've read a long time ago. I won't tell you now so as not to spoil the next part of the story.  
  
Although this chapter, or rather the prologue is a little long, except that the next chapters will not be as long as this one because I normally can't write beyond 3 pages...hehehe. Anyway I hope to get the second chapter out hopefully within a week's time.  
  
I apologize for the grammatical errors and some lack of context in the story...I never really am that good in writing. But I'll re-edit the chapters once I find enough time to do so.  
  
Until then please read and review.  
  
Hey Arnold does not belong to me, rather it is the masterpiece of Craig Barlet. 


	2. Without Feeling

"I don't think that you understand what I am saying." A shrilly voice of a middle-aged woman, probably going through the menopausal stages blathered on the line. "Now, I demand that you reverse that transaction back because of your invalid product!"

Before I could respond, an odd electrical hiss filled the line making me wince. I tried to fix the line signal through the computer interface but it seemed completely busted. Then somehow, the woman's irate voice permeated the hiss until it was completely gone.

"Hello? Hello! Are you listening! Don't you dare drop the phone on me, young man! Or I'll…"

"I'm still here ma'am." I took a deep breath and fought for my composure which was quickly slipping away after an hour of talking nonsense with this woman. "Yes, ma'am I understand that you are saying," I spoke in a calm practiced voice while feeling sick and tired of my damn part-time job. "However, I have to follow company policy. We have to verify with if the product was indeed invalid before we reverse your transaction. If you could just let me…"

"I don't think you understood me." The woman on the other end scoffed and I wrung the telephone wire tighter around my wrist perhaps subconsciously hoping I could wring it around her neck. "I demand that I speak to your supervisor! Don't you forget that I'll report this incident you incompetent fool! Now…"

I rolled by eyes at Gerald who was listening at the conversation from the sidelines eyes narrowed with a vein beginning to pulsate in his forehead. "Listen." I said in a rather snappish tone that made the woman pause her endless bitter tirade. "If you give me 5 minutes, only 5 minutes of your precious time," I muttered lacing every word with a hint of sarcasm. "I will contact our technical representative to clarify the matter. Ok? Is that fine? Only 5 minutes."

"Ok." The woman gave an exasperated groan. "But you better…."

"Ok? Ok. Fine. Thank You. Please stay on the line." Then I pushed the "hold" button with a little bit more force than I intended it to giving the keyboard a loud jolt.

"Man…" Gerald growled, rolling his eyes in frustration. "Hot damn, Arnold! If I took that call I would have put her in her damn place! Who the hell does she think she is anyway treating you like a moron with that high and mighty attitude?" He cracked his fist menacingly.

"Save it, Gerald." I sigh and readjusted the headset before punching in the number of the technical representative. "It's not worth it." Within a few rings, he answered and I relayed our client's problem in the best say I could. In a few seconds, I had the answer for a call that was equivalent to an hour of useless ranting. I managed to thank the technical representative before dropping the call with a grim sort of satisfaction.

"What?" Gerald asked with his eyebrows raised. "Don't tell me its her fault…"

"Well," I gingerly rubbed my swollen temples, feeling the beginnings for migraine. "Based on the info she gave, it turns out that she was trying force the product into a com line that is not configured to use it."

"I knew it!" Gerald screeched, making some people within the office area turn to look at us.

"Yeah." I steeled myself as I released the "hold" button. Normally, I pride myself for being calm and composed whereas the whole world appears to be in turmoil. Of course, there are moments where there appears to be some dents in my armor but I never really burst in frustration. There was only one person who could have made me snap but…

"Hello! What took you so long!" The client's voice irritated voice sounded. "Is this that incompetent..?" I didn't bother waiting for her to finish and risk another long tirade of complaints. Instead I quickly narrated what the technical representative told me.

After wasting an hour of her and my time with unending demands, I was rewarded with silence. The female client remained oddly quiet and unable to retort any further, perhaps seeing her mistake. A part of me wanted to grate on her nerves further; had she let me go instead of dropping sarcastic remarks, the ticket would have been solved quicker. But I chose not to. As I said, it wasn't worth it. And once, I was satisfied that she finally understood what I was saying judging by her continued silence, I terminated the call without saying goodbye. Once it was all over, I felt a nagging kind of guilt at not being as courteous as I am accustomed to before I swatted the thought away. What is done is done.

"Arnold, remind me again why the hell we sit here for four hours every other day just to get yelled at by someone who hasn't read the friggin' manual?" Gerald muttered through gritted teeth.

"Does the word 'college', ring a bell?" I stood up, stretching my numb legs.

"Oh that…" Comprehension seemed to dawn in Gerald's eyes and a look of sadness crossed his face. "I just wish there could have been another job that we could take."

"Well, you could have flipped burgers." I turned off my client computer and began packing up, relieved that my long day was coming to an end. "But according to Phoebe you need to have flipped 5 million burger patties before earning enough to pay a year worth of tuition fees."

Gerald looked like he was about to say something but then bit it back. I fought back the urge to tell Gerald my canned "It's going to be OK" statement and stuck to feeling sorry for my best friend.

The Gerald, I used to know didn't really have plans to enter college. Back then Gerald, didn't bother planning for the future. He was a guy that lived life for the moment. Of course, there were some things he wanted in life but Gerald believed in "Que Sera, Sera"…

At 18, Gerald was around 6"2 and built like a he was made to be the next sports superstar. Honestly, I would have thought that Gerald would have devoted himself completely to sports like he did when we were younger. When we entered high school Gerald was all set to be the main jock of our batch until things back at home caught up with him.

Jamie O had unceremoniously dropped out of college and ended up being a professional bum. It had come in as a shock to their father, who continues to be the sole breadwinner of the family. No amount of reprimand could get through the older sibling and no one was more affected but Gerald, who felt that it would be his responsibility to carry on for the family. From that point on, Gerald threw his MVP jersey and focused a lot more on his academics, hoping to get into a decent college to get a degree to fast track on his future. Although, Gerald didn't actually believe the merits of a college education, thinking that it would be better to go straight to the job market instead of spending another four years in an academic institution, he didn't want to let his dad down again.

So here is Gerald now, a changed man, hoping to catch up on years of neglect on his studies while saving enough to try to get himself through the next few years. "I would have used the paycheck to pay for the bills at home than waste it on some crummy college." Gerald muttered bitterly.

Together, we walked towards the shift supervisor and handed in ou temporary Ids, signaling the end of the day. The supervisor gave us a curt nod and the glass doors of the office slid open letting two exhausted teenagers out. Since, it was not allowed for us to bring in our bags inside the office, we headed for locker room to collect our stuff. There was nothing but complete silence between Gerald and me as we didn't waste any time to eagerly to get out of the suffocating office space to the cold yet smoggy nighttime breeze.

A part of me is slightly envious of Gerald. He was a man on a mission to make his life and his family better. As for me… The past two years had left me with a broken future with no obvious direction. I give myself a mental shake, trying to stop those thoughts from entering my head but it seemed as if fate, or whatever it is out there that kept things going, wasn't about to let me off so easily.

"What about you, Arnold?" Gerald asked all of the sudden, as if he read my mind.

"What about me?" I looked at my friend expectantly, who seemed to be avoiding my gaze.

"Why do you continue to work at this place? It's not as if you need the money or you'll be graduating soon." Gerald ended with a quiet note in his voice.

I laughed a little, hoping to break the tension that seemed to creep behind us. "Are you afraid I'm doing this for you?" I didn't like the quiet concern Gerald had, it made me feel depressed.

"Well….yeah…" Gerald rubbed his neck nervously, perhaps unsure about my reaction. "You don't have to take that kind of abuse so that you can help me or anything. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not just doing it for you, Gerald." I sighed and saw my breath appear like a ghostly apparition before me. "I just want to keep myself busy…you know…and what better way to do it that to share a part-time job with my best friend besides its better than joining up on some of the good for nothing gangs around here, don't you think?" I smiled hoping to lighten up his mood.

Gerald smiled back and gave me a friendly slapped in the back. "If you say so, Arnold." And we began our walk home.

I was glad that I didn't have to explain to Gerald how I felt. Gerald knew that the only way I kept myself together all these years way to immerse myself in a hurricane of activities. There are certain memories that I find too hard to escape and the only way I knew how was to keep my mind occupied at all times. If I didn't allow my mind a single moment of rest, I hoped that one day my heart would be able to stop lingering on the pain of loss.

Two years ago, I received an anonymous tip, along with a photo, that my parents had been spotted somewhere in the small island of Borneo, in the Asia Pacific, which was contrary to the what I thought when I was younger, that they were in South America. Without any other thought, I quickly took the opportunity to search for my parents. It didn't matter to me that I had to stop schooling and leave everything I knew behind. At the age of sixteen, I left by myself to go to a land that I knew nothing of, other than what I had researched before my leave. My gut was telling me that if I didn't take that opportunity, then I would never be able to find my parents.

If in my romantic dreams, I was reunited with my parents within a few weeks time, six months of trotting around an unknown land, sustained only by weekly allowances coming from my grandparents, yielded no positive result. In my six-month stay, the mystery surrounding my parents and their exact line of work proved to be more mind-boggling than ever. Some said they were missionaries. Others said they worked for non-government organizations protecting the environment. While there was some rumors that they were secret agents or spies of the US government.

I never intended to give up my search, but after months of futile attempts, I received news that devastated my spirits. It was Mr. Hyunh who broke the news of my grandfather's death.

Shortly after I left, Grandpa Phil suffered from pneumonia that eventually turned to some lung complication. Rather, than going to the doctor to have his condition cured, Phil insisted on sending nearly all of their earnings from the boarding house to me. Despite his age, Phil continued to tackle the constant maintenance of the boarding house, by himself further worsening his condition until one day he never woke up from his morning rest at the couch.

I flew back to the United States immediately. Much to my surprise, when I got back much of the work had been taken care of by the Big Bob Pataki who seemed to have grown closer to my grandpa despite hostilities in the past. In the days following my grandfather's death, I pained me so much to see my grandmother. Gertie had lost all spark of life she had in her eyes and was replaced by gray vacant eyes that occasionally shed a tear replaced them. In a short span of time, Gertie became bedridden, as if she had lost all will to live. And I could do nothing, but watch as my grandmother, the last of my family, slip away in silence.

At sixteen, I lost my family and the only things that kept me going were my friends and the boarders who were as good as a family as I could ever get. I enrolled back to school with my friends a year ahead of me and since then I made sure to make myself busy so I won't feel depressed at truly being alone in this world.

"Hey Arnold?" Gerald waved a hand before my face, looking concerned. "Are you alright man?"

"Huh?" I blinked and gave myself a mental shake. "I'm OK." I glanced at our surroundings and shivered. Hillwood has certainly seen better days. Today, the city seemed to be deteriorating quite rapidly and this part of town appeared to be a testament to that. Most buildings appeared run down and the street lamps needed electricity. In the small block that I surveyed, my eyes were quickly drawn to a brightly lit convenience store that seemed to be the only decent thing in the area.

As we strode closer to the convenience store, a feeling of unexplained foreboding settled upon my shoulders and I felt strangely lightheaded. I cast a wary glance behind me, half expecting someone to jump from behind but there was no one there. I took a deep breath and tried to bury the uneasiness that I felt.

I reached the convenience store before Gerald and by that time a seed of fear a formed deep in my mind. I was no longer feeling lightheaded, instead I felt so heavy as if my whole body was made out a rock and I could no longer move. I dreaded that feeling. It was a feeling I am all too familiar with. It was the feeling that I have lost something… Or am about to lose it…

"Please help us!" A voice pierced through my senses. I whipped my head up to see an elderly lady cowering from behind the counter.

"Shut up!" A harsh voice rang but I couldn't see who it belonged to. And I head footsteps coming closer.

Quickly, I glanced at Gerald, who was wide eyed with beads of sweat forming in his brow. "Call the cops!" I mouth with utmost urgency.

Gerald didn't seem to hear me but then he nodded. "Let's…"

Without warning, there was another scream and glass beside me broke into a million pieces. I warm blood trickle down my cheek as some shards hit the side of my face. "Who's there!" The same harsh voice demanded. "Get in here!"

"Go! Get the cops!" I mouthed to Gerald, who seemed rooted to the spot. I was about to yell at him, when he broke into a run and was swallowed by the darkness of the street. I gulped down my fear and entered the store with my hands held over my head.

"Please…" I stuttered my hands shaking. "I'm unarmed." I looked up hoping to see the face of my attacker but all I saw was some guy wearing a black ski mask complete with silver reflector goggles, a dark turtle neck sweater with matching gloves. Of course, I didn't think a guy wearing clothes that was meant for the South Pole mattered to me that much considering he was waving a gun at my face.

"Arnold?" An awed voice said. Confused I turned to look at source of the voice which turned out to be another man, slightly taller than me, dressed the same way as the gun man, who appeared to be sacking the convenience store's supply of potato chips and liquor. I didn't recognize the voice that called out but that didn't come as a surprise to my rattled state of mind.

"Shut your trap, moron!" Another voice joined in, this time it was deeper and sounded more menacing.

A burly looking man appeared from behind one of the shelves and walked towards the other guy and slapped his head from behind. Unlike the other two that appeared to be dressed for Antarctica all in black, this guy didn't bother to conceal his identity. The man could have been in his early thirties, looking very much like any stereotypical bad guy complete with a shiny bald head, mean looking tattoos on heavy muscled biceps and scars to prove that he has been into some rough scuffles.

He looked at me from head to toe. "You'll get us in trouble kid." He muttered like some kind of unspoken threat before walking to the store room that appeared to be on the back of the store. "Get in here!"

The words didn't register to me at all, that was until one of the crooks shoved me roughly by the shoulder making catch myself before I fell to the floor. "Move it!" The guy with the guy yelled.

I was in no mood to argue, considering I was outnumbered three to one. Any thoughts of me, taking on these people left my head. There was no way I can take on three big men carrying guns all at the same time. Our only hope left was for Gerald to get to the cops quickly.

And all I can do is to stall them.

On the outside, I looked like a pathetic wreck, eliciting a chuckle from one of captors as I manage to trip on my untied shoe laces. But inside I was trying to calm myself by focusing on following what these guys wanted but taking my sweet time so the cops can get here. I was about to pull myself up from the floor when I felt a weak hand grasp my arm.

"Please," The elderly lady managed to say through her tears. "Take this to my husband. He needs his medication because…"

"Hey! No talking!" One of our captors moved in. I pushed the elderly lady away at the expense getting kneed at my chin. "Her husband needs his medication!" I sputtered, not being able to talk well because of the pain.

"Yeah shhhuuure…" The guy laughed and turned his back towards me for a split moment. That was all I needed to scoop up whatever the old lady wanted to give me. I was confused when my hand focused on a cold syringe filled with some kind of transparent fluid. I looked at the old lady in confusion but her eyes were pleading me to get the medicine or whatever it was to her husband. I gave her a slight nod and somewhat crawled dramatically, in an attempt to conceal the syringe in my fist, to the backroom eliciting more laughter from the hooded men.

The backroom was dimly lit with a bunch of neatly stacked cardboard boxes filled with all kinds of merchandise. It was just a regular storeroom, but something felt odd in the air. It was almost as if the air was like a transparent storm cloud, heavy and electric. I couldn't see the burly man from a while back but I could see a pale old man, drenched in something akin to cold sweat, lying unconscious near a stack of wooden crates.

I scrambled up my feet to reach him. "Sir?" I hissed urgently, hoping to get some response but got none. I grabbed his wrist and to my relief was blessed with a weak pulse. I checked the syringe that the old woman tried to give me. On the side of the syringe there was a small marking that labeled it as glucose.

Then I realized that this man was suffering from Hypoglycemia, otherwise known as Insulin Shock. This condition happens when the body's blood sugar is abnormally low and the person becomes unconscious thus bearing the term Insulin Shock. Those survival guide books were of use after all. I checked the syringe making sure that there were no bubbles in the solution. But before I was able to give the old man his much needed shot, I staggered to the floor as I was knocked behind by some hard object.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" A voice behind me screeched.

"Sorry!" I shouted with my heart filling up with righteous anger. "It's just that this man needs his medicine…"

"Do it later when we're done!" My assailant kicked me in the stomach and I doubled over in pain. "Right now we have to…"

"Freeze! Drop your weapon!"

Although, I was still in great pain at that point time seemed to slow down to a vicious crawl. I did not feel being yanked up and my arm being twisted to my back so I can be used as a human shield. Nor did I feel the harsh shove forward.

The only things that registered were the deafening sound of a gunshot and the feeling of the bullet making contact with the back.

I did not feel my body as it hit the hard floor. I did not feel the wound behind slowly turn into a tide of blood. Instinctively, I began to mind began to go through a checklist on how I was doing. My pupils were wide and dilated but I could see. There was an incessant ringing sound in my ears but I can hear. The smell of gunpowder still hung around in the air and the blood, from my earlier blows, dripped to the side of my mouth that I can taste.

But I couldn't feel.

Which may be all for the better. I reckon that if I could feel right now, it wouldn't exactly be such a good thing.

From a distance, I can hear the sounds of an ambulance wailing as my vision begins to blur. The world in this kind of sight felt strange it was almost as if I was seeing some transparent things floating around the space I occupied in. From the corner of my eye, I see someone approaching. In a split moment I wonder at the irony of things. Here I was, half expecting the paramedics or the police to come and rescue me. Instead, all I see was someone in a high heeled shoe.

I looked up, and gasped at the sight of the person who was now kneeling before me. Although, her features had matured, she still wore the same pink dress she wore on that fateful Valentines day from nine years ago. Her beautiful long blonde hair fell to her slender shoulders in soft cascading waves. She had a peaceful smile around her that made the world seem to fade to white. But what was the most astonishing feature about her were her crystal blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with an unearthly glow. She reached out for my hand and I was surprised at how warm she felt.

"It's going to be all right, Arnold."

And I died.

-0000000-

A/N: Hello everyone! Yes it has been a long time since I last updated this fic. I have began writing this chapter for a quite some time but I never got myself to finish it. I couldn't quite imagine how I was going to kill off Arnold…the circumstances surrounding his death was very difficult for me to write. I'm very sorry if this chapter was just as depressing as the first.

Anyway, today I just watched 'Constantine' and somehow I got inspired to write again since some of the themes in this fic was somewhat close to that movie. I'll reveal the books / graphic novels that inspired me to make this fic on Chapter 3.

Once again I apologize for grammatical errors that are in this fanfic. I won't actively update the grammartical errors while the fic is still unifinished. Hopefully, I will update it once I finish the whole thing…if I actually find enough time to do so since I'm very busy with my work. But don't worry, I have a pretty solid idea of what Chapter 3 is going to be like. Until then enjoy and write to Nick that we want more 'Hey Arnold!'


	3. Behind the Looking Glass

**Chapter 3: Behind the looking glass**

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_Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold. Although I really wish I did... I also do not own the lyrics I used in this chapter which is actually a song from Switchfoot entitled "This is your Life." I recommend Switchfoot's "The Beautiful Letdown" album...great songs and great lyrics to contemplate on. _

_This Chapter is dedicated to my Grandparents who both passed away when I was on college...and I miss them so much. I end this chapter on the death anniversary of my grandmother._

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_Life is just like a dream._

Like that nursery rhyme from Kindergarten, a song didn't exactly make that much sense, much like Life.

And now death.

The last memory I had, was getting shot and blacking out. The last thought in my mind was that I knew I was about to die at the dusty cold store-room of some quickie mart. And then my next conscious thought, is now. I don't remember anything else that went in between that and this moment.

I look around at my surroundings with a sense of puzzlement. Instead of the store-room where I expected to be, I'm outside in the bright daylight. Instead of lying in the pool of my own blood, I was lying in a soft blanket of freshly cut grass under a big oak tree.

A small distance away from me a small throng of people gathered in a tight cluster amidst some vertical marble rocks that stood within neat rows of each other. I was puzzled for only a moment when things slowly fell into place. I was at a place I was all too familiar with within the last few years of my life, the cemetery. I knew that a funeral service was being performed for someone who had recently passed away.

And I had a pretty good idea whom it was for.

Slowly, I stood up, brushed the dirt from my clothes, idly wondering if such an action even matters here in death and walked slowly towards the gathered group. The turn-out was slightly moderate, not too many people attended but I'm sure that whoever it was that was lying in the casket at the center of the crowd wouldn't have minded. After all, funerals are nothing more but something close to a rite of passage that just had to be gotten over with.

Most of the faces, I recognized although there were quite a few I did not know at all. Most of the people were wearing black or dark hues, except for a girl at the edge of the crowd who seemed to be dressed for a stroll in the park rather than a funeral. Well at least she had bothered to attend.

I can't deny that a small part of me was looking amongst the crowd for a face that I have never seen before but I would be sure to recognize in an instant. I was looking for a light blond haired man, perhaps in his early forties, sporting a strong jaw and a beautiful brunette, whose head is shaped oddly like a football, standing close in tears.

I wanted to see them...considering that their son has just passed away.

But much like life was there were nowhere in sight. I suppose death hasn't really changed the reality of the life that I had lived. My parents were not present and never will be, just like they never were in my life. And chances are they don't even know that the family they had left behind for their unknown quest is all gone, I thought bitterly.

At the thought, I feel myself literally sinking down as if the ground was about to swallow me whole. My vision begins to blur and I feel panic surge through me as an unknown sensation began to grip whatever is left of me. In an instant, several images seemed to flash right before me while I looked on as a passive observer...

_I see a happy young couple carrying a small baby boy with a blue hat gurgling in delight at the attention showered upon him._

_I see the same couple hand the baby boy to an old couple with looks of disappointment and sadness etched in their faces._

_I see the old couple taking care of the little boy while occasionally darting earnest looks towards the door, as if they were expecting someone._

_I see a little sitting quietly in a corner while other kids toured the school with their parents._

_I see that little boy growing up to be me…_

As fast as the images flashed so did it fade to nothingness. In the unknown darkness, I felt that I am being dragged to somewhere frightening and cold and I had an insane urge to claw my way out of this oblivion. I screamed and screamed, hoping to get myself out of what I know is a waking nightmare, but I could not hear my voice.

And I wonder if this was truly the end...

"Get a move on it!"

A voice shattered the darkness around me and in an instant I was back at the cemetery with the sunlight streaming down through fluffy white clouds. Instinctively, I took a step back in shock while grabbing my head in hopes to steady myself. Once I got my bearings straight, I looked towards the direction of the voice only to see that casually dressed girl with her arms crossed and frowning impatiently at something she was looking at.

What the hell just happened!

I gulped and put my hand towards my chest, surprised to feel my 'dead' heart racing like a wild horse. For a moment, I had lost control and was being hurled away from the present. The bitter taste of what I know as fear began to manifest at the back of my throat. Whatever happened just now could happen again at any given moment and without warning. Unconsciously, I took a deep breath trying to pull myself together and focus at something else, anything else other than fear.

I clung to the soft murmuring erupting from the funeral crowd, hoping that the distraction can keep me calm. I look up to see the crowd, parting a little as the minister, who was standing in front of a sealed coffin announced that someone has a decided to provide a song for those who have gathered.

A sealed coffin...

And I thank whoever it was up there for that blessed detail.

A thin pale looking young man stepped forward, his once curly red head now cropped short. He walked in silence towards the front, until he managed to stumble on some invisible rock, luckily getting his arm out on time to brace his fall on the uneven ground, eliciting some muffled laughter from the crowd in the process. He looked up and gave a feeble laugh before resuming his trek to the front. Yes, at eighteen, despite all the changes, Eugene still was something akin to a klutz.

It didn't come to me as a surprise that Eugene was the one who was supposed to sing the tribute to me. Ever since 9th grade, Eugene had continued to cultivate his singing talent. Whereas before, he used to sing in musicals, now he sings for a small rock band. I found his choice rather odd but I never asked him why. Gone was the impish childhood squeak his voice had and was replaced by a deeper drawl.

Thankfully, Eugene reached the front without any additional fanfare. He cleared his throat and began to speak. "I came here today with a song already prepared as we bid goodbye to our good friend, Arnold." He paused for a moment, staring into space, as if he was trying to wait for the words to come to him.

I wonder who put Eugene up to this considering I hadn't really known Eugene as much, even when we were younger. That was primarily due to the running joke of Eugene being the human jinx. But despite all that, our paths still crossed and for the bad that appeared to surround him, there was a strong boy bursting with talent. Sadly, it seems to me that we parted a lot more since I got back. Sure enough, we were civil and greeted each other but I rarely had time to talk to him and ask him how he was doing. It was only on a few occasions when I watched his band at a local restaurant that I found time to sit with him, but we never really had much to talk about other than music. Nonetheless, I felt glad that despite years he had still considered me enough of a friend that he would lend his talent to this occasion.

"As I stood here, I remembered what Arnold was to all of us. He was a good friend. We have all changed in the past years but Arnold was more than the forever optimist that we all have known him to be." Eugene continued, his eyes appearing to be glassy.

An optimist? Now there's one word I wouldn't use to describe myself. Of course, not many people actually know the changes and events that had haunted me in my life. If there was anything that the years have thought me, is that the world was not as happy as it seemed to be. Rather, it was indifferent to anything, to anyone.

When I was younger, I always thought that there was magic in the world and in the end it was the person looking in that made all the difference in the world. But as I grew older, I began to doubt such philosophy. I began to realize that you don't really have anyone but yourself. That there was really no magic. I always felt that the years has curbed down my childhood optimism in favor of a more subdued, yet positive, attitude. It was not something that I showed people outright. And of course, there would be no point in correcting Eugene, considering my current predicament.

"Until today, he remains to be the person that we all wanted to be more off." Eugene continued. "In his passing, he leaves us a question that I think he would want us to consider especially now that we are about to graduate and move on with the rest of our lives."

As he took a deep breath and began to sing, I felt as if time took that breath along with him, waiting in anticipation. If there was any testament regarding, Eugene's talent, it would be now as he sung without the aid of any musical accompaniment. This voice was melodic at the same time as it was haunting. What puzzled me was his choice of song for the dead; it wasn't exactly the standard issued funeral song.

_Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead  
Yesterday is a promise that you've broken_

_  
Don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes  
This is your life and today is all you've got now  
Yeah, and today is all you'll ever have  
Don't close your eyes  
Don't close your eyes_

_This is your life, are you who you want to be?  
This is your life, are you who you want to be?  
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be  
When the world was younger _

_And you had everything to lose  
_

I looked around, wondering if the others were as puzzled as I am and it came to me as a surprise that they weren't. Somehow, it was as if Eugene was singing, a song not for those who has passed away, but for those who have been left behind as it appeared to touch a chord in each of the people gathered in my funeral. It was at this moment that I took a time-out to study the people who have gathered here.

On one side stood a group of my high-school friends, most of which were my original batch mates from PS 118. Leading the group was Gerald and Phoebe. My best friend had a stony look and his eyes appeared to be detached, as if he was thinking about something else other than my funeral. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he didn't really care and be disappointed, after all I am, or was, his best friend and he should be the one singing a tribute, not really Eugene.

But then again, Gerald never really had a good signing voice and upon closer inspection, his eyes held a tinge of red and I knew that Gerald was grieving much more than he was willing to show in public. Phoebe was on his side, holding on to his arm for support while occasionally dabbing a tissue under her glasses to try to stop the tears that kept on flowing down her eyes. It had always been quiet sight for me to see Gerald and Phoebe together, after all Gerald did tower over her oriental frame by more than a foot. But Phoebe held a quiet strength which held the two of them together through the years.

Along the front row was Rhonda together with Nadine and their clique of girls and their corresponding boy friends. It was only logical for the "In Crowd" to be out in front. After all these years, Rhonda was still the fashion princess who wanted to be at the center of everyone's attention, with a slight twist that even I was surprised of. Apparently, Rhonda never got over those neat little 'clairvoyance' tricks she used to impose on us while we were younger, and she turned out to be more into the ethereal sort of thing than anyone else. Although, some people would have classified her as a Goth or gypsy like, that was not really the case once you mix fashion and style which Rhonda seemed to manage perfectly well.

Lila was also out in front, weeping visibly like some kind of widow. Beside her was her current boyfriend, some guy from the football team, with a comforting arm around her shoulder. Perhaps when I was younger, I would have felt jealousy surge through me at the sight of the girl with another guy, after all I had spent a part of my short life pinning after her. Instead, I feel a strange kind of relief. Throughout the years, Lila had grown to be more beautiful than anything in my childhood fantasies could ever fathom but I have developed a strange kind of detachment from her. It was difficult to explain what happened between the two of us...in fact I doubt I really understood it.

Harold was present with the rest of West Hillwood's varsity who's who. Harold was now sporting a shining bald head and had grown out the baby fat and converted them to sheer muscle that turned to out to be source of the school's football victories. A smaller group composed of Sid, Stinky and Sheena were solemnly hanging out in the back. Besides Gerald, the only ones that really stuck by me were those two guys. Occasionally, they would send me, a much appreciated, invite to play some ball or play a videogame over the Internet.

It was a surprise for me to see Curly and Brian, or rather Brainy, come to my funeral. Ever since junior high, those two drifted away from everyone. They kept mostly to themselves ignoring greetings from the rest of the gang. Brian, in particular, seemed to harbor some ill feelings towards me. He never said anything but every time we cross paths I feel like he's looking at me with contempt and I had no idea how that came to be. Sure, we weren't close when we were younger but we never really bothered with each other too much to harbor anything more than a passive acquaintance. I shook the thought away, perhaps I was mistaken about Brian, and after all he actually bothered to come to my funeral.

On the other side were "older" crowd. Mr. Simmons and a few of my teachers came. All the Sunset Arms boarders, both existing and those who had moved away, came to say goodbye. The old couple from the convenience store was present as well. They looked like they had just lost a son, whereas I was glad that they survived. I new wave of bitter memories was over me over seeing them sad. They reminded me too much of my own grandparents, who grieved when I left for my short trip a few years ago. I certainly, hope that there was someone out there to take care of me. I was all too familiar with how difficult it is to be alone and how much harder it be if you are older.

I wasn't surprised to see the Pataki family, with the exception of Miriam Pataki, out in full force. Big Bob Pataki's hulking form stood out with a gruff look on his face, as if he was attending a board meeting rather than a funeral. While Olga and her husband took turns handling their new baby. Given a few years back, I would doubt that that they would even bother to remember me and my grandparents. Certainly, time has a strange way of changing things. And it all started to change at the death of the youngest Pataki daughter.

Helga...

A soft cry pierced through Eugene's song, which made everyone look toward the baby that Olga was carrying. Olga blushed in embarrassment and whispered something to her husband's ear. Then she glanced at her father who gave her a curt nod before walking away with her crying baby.

I followed Olga away from my funeral. Perhaps, there was something about the way she whispered a hush lullaby softly in order to calm the young one that seemed to calm me as well. Or maybe, I really just wanted to get the hell away from my own funeral.

I smiled at the obvious affection that Olga was giving her son. The air around them seemed to shimmer as her baby responded with a small chuckle at Olga's funny face attempts, and I wonder if this is how happiness must look like.

_I remember the moments I shared with my grandparents and the boarders. Those strange days where my grandmother actually mistook Christmas for Thanksgiving, causing a small, albeit fun, riot in Sunset Arms._

_I remember the smile in the faces of people whom I knew and some I never exchanged names with, after I had helped them through one of their problems or even ran a simple errand for them._

_I remember the moments, I spent with my friends playing baseball in Geraldfield and then after a tiring game grabbing some ice cream from the passing vendor._

_I remember my best friend and our special handshake._

_I remember that day when I helped saved the neighborhood and the bully in pink who turned out to be more than just an ally._

"You know..." Olga's voice broke me out of my reverie. "Funerals are supposed to be sad but you shouldn't be sad for Arnold. I know you haven't really met him yet, but he's a great boy. And I know he'll be okay. I know she'll be out there to help him wherever he may be."

I could feel my brow furrowing at Olga's words. Who was she talking about? I step closer hoping to hear more of what she was saying and perhaps find the identity of whoever she was talking about. Then Olga seemed to look right at me, making me freeze at my tracks. I wonder if she could see me giving me a strange kind of hope. But then Olga blinked and turned away from me...and I knew there was no way for her to know that I am actually "present"...I'm dead after all.

"I hope she's happy right now." Olga whispered wistfully while staring at the bright blue sky. "I miss her so much..." A small gurgle brought Olga back to her baby and she hugged him closer. "Do you want to know who I'm talking about?"

_Yes._ I whisper hoping that she would grant my request.

Olga laughed lightly. "I wish you could have met her. She was really something else. She's my..."

"Football head!"

I haven't heard that name for a long time. Nor was it something I couldn't forget. My focus immediately went from the soothing sound of Olga's voice to some brash high-pitched sound of what I have always known to be as my childhood nemesis. I whirled back and what I saw left my mouth hanging open. And I wonder how I could not have recognized her from before. That casually dressed girl from the funeral...

My actions elicited a soft chuckle. "Take a picture football head. It'll last longer!"

For a moment, I didn't want to believe what I was hearing. After all, I'm already dead and who knows if there's anything left out of my 'physical' senses. Yet that moment of hesitation was squashed the moment I looked up and saw the same crystal blue eyes of a girl I had known since pre-school.

"Helga?" I whispered, my jaw hanging slightly in awe.

"In the flesh." She flashed me that trademark bully smirk. "Or shall we say, in the spirit."

I don't really remember grabbing her or holding her in my arms. But I do remember how sweet it was to hold her and somehow knowing that she too can feel me. I don't know if I imagined it but I felt her return my hug ever so slightly before shoving me away like always.

"Crimeny!" She grumbled and shot me a piercing look. "Don't get too mushy on me football head!" She made such a big production out it and appeared to dust some invisible speck from her shoulder.

"I'm sorry…" Instinctively, I put my hand behind my head, a sure sign of my discomfort and that was the way it has always been with this girl. To be honest, I wasn't exactly sure why I reacted that way to Helga, I suppose it comes naturally along with the fact that I haven't exactly seen her for the last four years.

"It's just that…you're dead." I stammered, knowing fully well that it was exactly the best thing I could say to tick her off.

"Doi." Helga flashed the same scowl that haunted my childhood years. "Tell me something I don't know, Arnoldo!"

She was wearing her trademark colors as I have always remembered; soft pink shirt, white baggy shorts and a pair of worn running shoes. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail held firmly by a pink ribbon. But there was something odd about her the way she looked, something I can't seem to put my finger on. There was something about her that seemed too familiar and yet it was out of place. Then it hit me, and I couldn't help but say what was going through my head.

"Helga!" I gasped not sure to be amazed or alarmed. "Why are you like that?"

"Like what?" Her frown deepened and somewhere at the back of my mind, a part of me was telling me to stop pissing her off before I get reacquainted with the famous 'Ol Betsy while another was dying of curiosity but then again I'm already dead so I just took the plunge.

"Like you're…"

"A kid?" Helga asked, while one of her thick eyebrows shot up.

"Not really…" I trailed off, feeling more and more embarrassed by the second. She wasn't exactly the same kid with two spunky pigtails with a matching unibrow and scowl to match. But none the less, she has looked unchanged ever since I last remembered her. And I never really knew Helga that well to be asking things quite bluntly. "Not really a kid but you know…younger…older..."

I looked down and if I could see myself, or what was left me, I swear I'd be red in the face. I was surprised that rather than getting angry, Helga just gave a small laugh. I looked up and when she saw the confused look on my face, it made her laugh harder.

After a while, her laughter subsided into small chuckles and she was able to answer back. "You haven't changed at all." She flashed me one of those rare smiles catching me a little off guard. "Does it really matter that I look like this?"

Did it matter? I suppose I part of me was surprised because a part of me expected Helga to be my age. It's not like I had to look down that much to meet her eyes; Helga has always been a tall girl. Even if I'm supposed to conversing with a younger version of herself, I didn't have to look down too much to meet her eyes. But it did make me feel a little weirded out and it I wonder what more oddities are out here in the after life. But then again, Helga never had the opportunity to turn eighteen.

"This was what I looked liked when I died." She whispered it so softly, that it I wasn't standing so close to her I wouldn't have been able to catch it. "If you remember, I died a couple years before you."

"I remember..." I whispered just as softly. And I remember it wasn't actually something that I considered as a happy moment.

"Time doesn't matter here, football head. Neither will anything that resembles the world that you lived in." Helga went on, as if she hasn't heard me. "And pretty soon you won't care about those things anymore. You'll be able to do anything you want. "

To be honest, I wasn't exactly listing to Helga that much. I was too busy studying the girl in front of me. Nine years ago, I remembered her death came so sudden that not having someone call me football head and annoy me on a regular basis was something out of the ordinary. It was Helga's death that seemed to have knocked the wind off my sails. It was the first time I encountered death and since then things were never be the same. And there was that questions that lay between us that have never been answered.

I squashed those thoughts, now didn't feel like the right time to even bother thinking about that. Helga seemed to have moved on, in more ways than one. It was only luck that Helga didn't notice my absent minded behavior and had not bothered to grate me about it. Or maybe she did but she was just looking at me with a small sad smile on her face and tilted her head to the side as if she was waiting for an answer to something that she had said.

"What?" I asked sounding a little breathless for my own good.

Helga stepped closer and gave me a pat on the back. "It's been nice to see you and all but It's time to get going now, Arnold."

Arnold. It has been quite rare that Helga has addressed me using my name and on those occasions I felt that something has always been up. "What are you talking about?" I surveyed the cemetery which was as tranquil as ever.

"Well the service is over." Helga jabbed a finger at the direction of dispersing crowd and I was surprised at how fast it actually ended where for me it had barely just begun. "I hope you've said your goodbyes since you have to get going now."

"I just got here and I don't think the dead has anywhere else to go." I asked, voicing my confusion.

"Sure they do." Helga gave me an all knowing smirk. "You started to go just a while ago."

"A while ago?" I scratched my head trying to figure out what she was trying to say.

"You started to go when Olga was singing or whatever to her kid or something." Helga gave an exasperated sigh.

Olga and her baby? I had a brief recollection of Olga singing something to her baby and how wonderfully loving the lullaby sounded. But I didn't go anywhere at that time. I only left when...

"Are you talking about the darkness?" I asked her quietly feeling the dread fill me once again at the possibility that I have to face such thing again.

"Of course not! This is why you shouldn't stay here." She sighed and shook her head. "This place will just bring you bad memories, it will tie you down. It will just bring you down and keep you locked here forever. You got a better place to go."

"How do you know that?" I found it strange that she could have read my mind but then again, even when we were alive, Helga had that uncanny ability to know my thoughts. I looked up in the sky hoping to see some kind of a miracle that only the dead could. But then again the sky remained the same.

"Other ghosts and spirits floating around this joint." Helga answered in a matter-of-factly tone. "The dead has to move on, that's the rule. There's a better place out there, devoid of pain and suffering."

"Heaven?"

"Heaven, Nirvana, Paradise whatever bucko." Helga shrugged. "You can call it whatever you like but you can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"Dammit, Footballhead!" Helga muttered, clenching her fists. "What's with all the questions?"

"Give me a break, Helga" I laughed hoping to disperse her stress and mine as well. "I just died. Weren't you a little bit curious once you finally realized that there really was life after death?"

"Of course I was!" Helga threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Well that is after I got over the fact that my body was six feet under with a bunch of maggots tearing through my flesh and…"

"Umm…" I was beginning to feel queasy with the imagery. "Can we skip that part, I just got buried you know."

"You asked for it." She shrugged. "So look you wanna leave now before your body turns into ashes and you get to see that mental image for real."

"Come off it, Helga. Look what's so wrong in staying here a while. Looks like I got nothing better to do and if the stuff in religion is true, I got the whole of eternity ahead of me."

"That's not the point! You're supposed to spend the rest of eternity away from this joint. Living people don't call it "hell on earth" for nothing you know. Somewhere out there is a place where you will be happy and float around with the angels and stuff!"

"Then what are you doing here?" I paused and narrowed my eyes at her in scrutiny. "You're not my guardian angel right?"

"I suppose I don't look like your regular cherub huh?" Helga laughed.

"Nah...more like the grim reaper."

"In fact that's what I do around this place." She smirked, making me feel a little nervous. To be honest, I haven't gotten over those little things that remind of the bully from the 9th grade. "I escort people to the next level...or at least I try to."

"Did God ask you or something?" I asked curious. I don't even know if there is a God but right now, I think there's something more to the afterlife than I have begun to grasp. "Is there a God?"

"Something like that." She muttered. "I can't really tell you much. That is something you have to realize for yourself."

"Do you need a helper?" Helga seemed to be taken aback by the question.

"You can't stay here, Arnold. You just can't." She paused a little, her big blue eyes becoming clouded.

"Why not?"

"There are things that I don't completely understand. Things I can never really explain to you. This place is not what it seems to be. It's dangerous here. And You know what I am talking about." She gave me a pointed look. "You were slipping away a while ago."

My experience with the darkness was not something that I think I will forget anytime soon. It was something that I didn't understand that happened unexpectedly without warning. I know that the right thing to do was to move on to whatever Helga was referring to. I know I can easily escape it but right now I don't want to go... Just not yet.

"Wouldn't we safer now that we're together?"

Helga looked liked she was about to protest but then stopped in mid stride. "Okay whatever floats your boat. If you get in trouble here don't expect me to sell my soul or something to get you out. So what do you want to accomplish before you cross to the great beyond?"

"I dunno." To be honest, I was a little surprised that Helga gave up so easily in trying to get rid of me. But then again, perhaps its just plain luck that she agreed. "Find out who killed me. Bring a little bit of justice to this place. Save the neighborhood once again?" I rambled without really putting much thought behind my words.

"Yeah right." Helga snorted disbelievingly. "You wanna try to bring down the sky while we're you're at it?"

"As I said I got nothing better to do." I shrugged. "Perhaps before I go I want to make my mark here..."

"You already have! Several time even!" Helga threw her hands in exasperation. "And why should you bother now, I mean, no one will really know what you're doing anyway."

"Does it look like the same place that lived in when we were kids?"

"You're evading the inevitable and things change. And there's nothing you or me can do to stop it."

"We did it once right? We can do it again."

"Doi, you're forgetting one important thing football had. Last time I checked you weren't Casper the friendly ghost when you saved the neighborhood."

"Well I think ghosts will make excellent spies. For one we are totally invisible! Nobody will ever catch us. Besides we can probably scare the living daylights out of the bad guys, you know like what they did in Poltergeist."

"You watched too many movies. Don't get me started on the supernatural stuff ok!"

"What supernatural stuff?"

"I said don't get me started!"

"Are we partners again, Deep Voice?" I extended my hard towards her and smiled.

"You're asking for a helluva lot of trouble, football head but what the heck, being dead gets pretty boring at times." Helga shook her head and gave me a firm handshake.

And at that moment, I feel like it was old times again. It was so easy to slip into the way things was with her. In its own way it was like I was given an extension on life. And I felt a feeling that I haven't felt for a long time...I was actually surprised that I was feeling optimistic for a future that will not necessarily be marked as part of my history but something unforeseen.

Somehow, I know the magic was back.

* * *

A/N: Whoa...that was long. I would like to apologize to those who liked my story and had to wait a long time to read its next installment. I'm a computer programmer and in the past few month's I have been very busy with my work which sapped most of my creative thought. I hope you guys like this chapter. It was originally shorter than what it is now...basically I wanted Arnold to remember his life. But then again, I felt that it was high time to introduce Helga in this story again. So in a way, I had to fix certain plot events to make room for what I wanted. I hope this chapter wasn't as convoluted as my thought process as I rearranged the story internally...

I promised the last time that I will reveal the book that inspired this piece of HA Fanfiction...it's "Remember Me" by Christopher Pike. It was a book I have read 10 years ago when I was in early high school (yes I am that old). For those of you who are familiar with that book, there are certain events / situations that I 'lifted' from it and put in this chapter.

I don't want to promise that the next chapter will be coming soon...perhaps within a few months, since I'm reaching the critical point in my work project. But I would like to thank all those people who actually took time to review my story. I constantly read your reviews to give me inspiration to write and complete this story. This story wouldn't get this far without your encouragement. Thank you so very much!

I ask for pardon for grammatical errors I have committed (particularly the past/present tenses) and I hope to fix them if I have time to re-read this chapter.

However, just as parting note...Yes this is a story where I intend to make Arnold and Helga end up together. That is pretty much a given...it's the how that I intend to be sweet. Don't worry I'll be throwing a lot more twists in this story as well...


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